Suramya Pokharel - January 27, 2024
On another meeting, she came quite upset. Apparently, a rumor of her had spread through the college and she looked pretty down. I’d heard it, I’d just forgotten what it was completely, until she started talking about it. She showed me an anonymous post that had been made on Facebook, addressing her directly, about the rumor and apparently, that had made her more upset. The gist of the rumor was that she was someone who uses other boys to get her way or something similar. Typical childish shit.
I took a look at the post. It was quite badly written with a lot of spelling and grammatical mistakes. I wanted to point them out, but she seemed quite sad and I decided against it. I checked the comments and there was her comment which was essentially a stupid message justifying herself, and attacking the ones spreading the rumor and so on. It had quite a few likes from I’d presume her friends, and there were other few comments defending her as well.
I didn’t feel like getting into a conversation about this for I assumed it would be quite tiresome. But she, in a worried tone, started, “Who could’ve done it?”
“The queen of England,” I said sarcastically. “How would I know?”
I should really tone down my sarcasm. That was not the right time. It certainly was amusing though.
“No, I mean… What should I do?” she said, with a hint of anger blended in an already present sadness, “If only I knew who that was.”
I absolutely dislike situations as these. I feel an inherent need to provide or discuss solutions for the problem. But, I know that when people come venting about their problems, they’re really only looking to be heard rather than get actual solutions. This is another reason why I distance myself from society so heavily. This approach makes no sense.
“What do you want to do?” I asked.
“Well for starters, I want to know who the people are. Then, I want to punch them on their face.” It was funny – her getting aggressive.
“Okay,” I replied. “The odds that you’ll know who it was is practically zero.”
“How?”
“Because rumors do not spread linearly. It’s full of loops and jumbled meshes that you can’t just pick apart.” Here I am, back at my comfort zone of logic and rationalism.
“What?” she said utterly confused. I tend to have this effect on people.
“Let’s say a guy X started the rumor. He says something to another guy Y. Y then, goes and says that to five other people A, B, C, D, E. Those five people, in turn, go and tell five different people each. That’s 25 people. Now, because those five people know nothing about X being the one who started it, they’ll likely go and tell the rumor back to X again. Let’s say A told it back to X. Then, when questioned, A will point the finger at Y because Y told it to A, Y will point to X and X can then very easily point back to A. You’ll never know who the actual culprit was. Now, this is a very simplified example. If you go asking about the exact time they heard the rumor, you may be able to find out, but then, who actually ever knows the specific time a conversation took place. And besides, the intensity of any rumor magnifies as it is passed on – like Chinese whisper. The odds are very plausible that X just said something pretty normal, but as it got passed on, it got magnified. Then, for you to track the exact place where the largest magnification took place would be an impossible task.”
“And what’s more,” I continued. “Let’s say you, by some miracle, do find the culprit or the group of culprits, you’ll never have enough empirical evidence to accuse him. If you accuse him anyways, he can just play the victim and because your reputation has already been compromised, the mass is more likely to side with him than you.”
“Then, what do I do?” she questioned me, lost, as if I had taken away her only actionable step.
“Nothing. Let it be.”
“What?” she replied, taken aback. “There’s rumors about me going on, and I don’t defend myself?”
“You are defending yourself from shadows. There’s no attacker here. Your act for defense will be seen more as an act for justification. Be the bigger person, or at least act like one, and let it go!” I said, with an air of nonchalance.
“But–” she replied, “I mean, would you do that. Would you just let that go?”
“It’s irrelevant what I’d do.”
“See! You wouldn’t do it yourself.”
“I didn’t say that. Me and you are inherently different. We have different strengths and different weaknesses. We have different degrees for toleration and anger and patience. So, you can’t model my actions for things you experience.”
She seemed speechless. I tend to have this effect on people as well. It’s like there was no retort. My idea of letting it be had clearly not resonated with her. I could see that. But, she had no defense against my arguments.
“Besides,” I continued. “Why does it matter what anyone thinks of you? If they want to believe something, let them believe it.”
“That’s true, but– that’s not practical,” she said, vexed by her circumstance. She appeared as if on the verge of crying.
“Would you be able to do–? I mean, you probably would,” she continued, tears now starting to accumulate on her eyes. “But, I’m not like that. These things bother me.”
“That’s because you judge your status based on what image people have of you on their mind,” I pressed on. “You want to be liked, or at least thought of in high regards by everyone. And that’s what’s not practical. Your self esteem should not be based on someone else’s opinions regarding you.”
What I said must've engraged her a little, hence why, she gathered herself and appeared less tearful. It appeared as if she wanted to take me on, but I was too stong an adversary.
“And wha–? Do you not want to be thought of nicely by others?” she asked, initially angrily but politely towards the end.
“Yes, I’d rather be thought of nicely than not. But I don’t do anything ... No – not do, I don’t take any decision (that’s a better wording), with a need to be liked more by anyone else.”
I caught myself at the right time there. At times, I do find myself doing things with no other intent than to impress others. I think some of it is written in the genetic code of every human. Ideally, I’d want to get rid of it, but that’s a thought for some other time. Since I have not yet gotten rid of it all, I’d have been a hypocrite, and bashed myself the whole day had I not corrected myself.
“If that’s not an optimal option for you,” I continued. “Make one post and one post only about the rumor and you’d be good to go.”
“Yeah, that sounds like the better option,” she said, somewhat relieved. “What should I write?”
The processing of the program had long ended. “That’s up to you! If you want to win, don’t defend yourself,” I replied. “Let’s go.”
“Okay! No – Wait! I mean, tell me what to write.”
“Something like: There’s a rumor going around about me. It’s obviously not true and anyone I care about know it’s not true. So, if you think it’s true – Fuck off,” I said grinning. “Phrase it better though.”
“Okay!” she replied giggling. We packed our belongings and headed out. Just outside the library, she met a bunch of her friends, and I left her there and parted.
I walked to the bus station thinking of scenarios of what my action would’ve been had I been in her shoes. Few years earlier, I’d probably go completely mad with anxiety. Now, I probably wouldn’t have cared enough to do anything with it. Man, have I changed! But, let’s say I cared even half as much as she does. Then, I’d also have probably tried to figure out who was behind it all. So, it was a normal reaction of hers. Not just tried even, I’d have gone above and beyond in utter immaturity, to figure out who it was. And if I did figure it out, I’d have gone and shattered the guy’s jaws off. A lot of my ‘maturity’ I think, comes from my indifference towards the world. Else, I’m pretty darn immature myself.